


the rewards of holding on

by eunbinatozaki



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, all in all jihyo loves momo and that's all that matters, kind of a princess au kind of an arranged marriage au kind of everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 23:52:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eunbinatozaki/pseuds/eunbinatozaki
Summary: jihyo is too afraid of breaking everything apart. momo helps keep it together for her.





	the rewards of holding on

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally supposed to be apart of my momoxtwice (coming through for you) fics but then it got too big to just be a ficlet so it deserves it's own story.
> 
> other updates soon, enjoy this for now!  
> // twitter: @chuuniversai

when jihyo is seven and just learning about what it truly means to be the crowned princess of a kingdom that’s just barely holding on and on the cusp of a war, she meets hirai momo, the eight-year-old daughter of a visiting japanese nobleman. 

where her father is all tight shoulders and stiff features with gruff, demanding words spoken in heavily accented korean, momo is scrawny and meek, hair tousled on her head and two teeth missing in the right side of her mouth. she doesn’t sneer at jihyo the way other visiting nobles do, doesn’t ignore her the way the children of the other well-off lands do; she just offers out one of the many sweets that jihyo has never had the affordability of having and smiles at her. 

then and there, jihyo decides she likes momo.

* * *

jihyo is thirteen and blossoming into what the consorts of the house deem a “beautiful young lady” when her father pulls her aside, worry tugging his wrinkled features into a grimace that drops a heavy weight in the middle of her stomach. she hears words of the war is getting worse and we need all the help we can before the word marriage hits her ears. 

she’s heard the stories through the whispers of the corridors during her nights of unwatched wandering. of how infamous crowned princess im nayeon three kingdoms over had been married off to the son of emperor park jinyoung; how the high priestess’ youngest daughter, a brave girl by the name jeongyeon, had been married off to a wealthy unknown in a far-off land. 

jihyo knows it had been for the good of their kingdoms, to stop the wars and fighting she had heard was plaguing them years before the worries of noble-ship fell onto their young shoulders. but she never knew it would happen to her, never knew she would be next in line to give her hand and name to someone she knew she wouldn’t even know if it weren’t for the war in a few years’ time.

jihyo decides she hates the idea of not deciding her own future.

* * *

jihyo is freshly eighteen when she meets hirai momo face-to-face again. it’s winter, a white blanket of snow coats her kingdom, and momo, with her father in tow, arrive at their gate fresh faced and well put together despite their long trip at sea, an invitation to jihyo’s coronation and subsequent wedding in their hands.

jihyo avoids momo’s gaze, no matter how much the older girl tries to catch it. it’s awkward, jihyo feels, because she had been ignoring momo’s letters for the past several months, too caught up in the planning of a wedding she didn’t want and the unheard seeds of feelings momo had been planting in her heart for years. she remembers the lazy and childish scrawl of momo’s words as they aged, the _i miss you’s_ and _can’t wait to see you’s_ scattered around tattered paper, remembers the rather silly drawings momo had done of her in letters where words just weren’t enough, something that made her heart clench and soar all at once.

remembers the hurt she could feel in momo’s following letter when she mentioned jihyo’s upcoming wedding, when she questioned why jihyo didn’t tell her the news herself, why she had to hear it from one of her father’s many consorts. remembers the letter she received a fortnight later from one of momo’s lady’s in waiting, a girl named sana who had such a stern way of writing despite her bubbly and looping script that jihyo could feel the disappoint in just her words alone, that said momo wouldn’t bother her again if that was what she wanted.

jihyo didn’t want that. jihyo didn’t want any of this. but jihyo was not one to go against the rules, would not be the one to break everything apart. 

so, the letter was left unanswered.

but now here momo stands anyway, usual smiling face twisted into a frown, and hard gleam to her eyes. she says nothing as they’re escorted into the main hall, says nothing as jihyo and her father formally greet them to the other guests, doesn’t even say anything as her father introduces jihyo’s soon-to-be husband, just nods and puts on the practiced “high class” face jihyo has seen on so many others before. 

for a moment, jihyo thinks nothing will happen. she’ll be crowned and married. she’ll move to the neighboring kingdom and the war between their lands will subside. she’ll live by her husband’s side, bear his children, and then gracefully age in the walls of a castle she must call home until her dying day. that is how her life is planned and that is how it must go.

that is, until momo grabs her arm and pulls her from the table while everyone is laughing over goblets of wine and jokes of the ironically drunken priest seated further down the hall. momo leads her through the silent halls of the castle, pass doors that lead to long corridors and rooming for the help, pass the kitchens and the exit to the stables, pass everything until they’re standing on the landing above the lower walkway, nothing more than the sounds of the night surrounding them.

jihyo says nothing and neither does momo, the two just watching each other in silence. jihyo knows this isn’t right, that she should be back there with her betrothed and their families, making a name for herself as a soon to be queen. yet she doesn’t move, doesn’t dare turn and leave momo by herself. not again.

instead, she finally reaches out and touches her fingers to momo’s rapidly reddening cheek, eyes blinking away tears she swore months ago she would never let fall if she found herself this close to the japanese girl again. momo reaches out, cold fingers loosely curling around her wrist, eyes wide and searching, “why didn’t you tell me about the wedding? i deserved to know — i needed to know, jihyo.”

she smiles, but there’s no humor behind it. she hears the hurt in momo’s voice, hears the betrayal and the pain that jihyo’s ignoring of her had caused. she knows there’s no easy explanation to give, knows momo deserves only the truth, but jihyo still cannot be the one to break everything. so she doesn’t.

“i forgot to,” she lies, feels her heart thud against her ribcage because she hates throwing falsities into momo’s face as if she wouldn’t catch them, “everything got so busy that it all just piled up and — well, it just happens.”

momo scoffs, a sound so harsh and unforgiving that it has jihyo reeling back in shock. momo has never been mad at her. the closest she’d gotten was when they just entering their teenage years and jihyo had visited the japanese girls home with her father. while their fathers discussed politics down the hall, she had found herself in momo’s uncharacteristically girlish room and accidentally knocked over what momo would later call “her most prized toy”. she was scolded and momo pouted for over an hour, an unimpressed and sour look on her face all the while. it wasn’t until jihyo had hugged her and kissed her cheek, multiple teary-eyed apologies spilling from her that momo forgave her. jihyo’s sure that tactic won’t work now. 

momo’s eyes blaze with something stronger than childish hurt and jihyo has enough of her mind to look away, to know it was her who put it there and it must be her who takes the fallout of it. momo huffs and jihyo’s shoulders curl in on her, ready for the lashing she knows she deserves. yet it never comes. 

when she chances a glance up, momo looks tired, so worn out and lifeless that jihyo feels her throat constrict and her lungs beg for air over the breath she’s holding. she reaches for momo but the older girl slaps her hand away, and that’s when jihyo sees the tears brimming in her eyes. she sees the way momo tries to wipe them away, hears the harsh sniff she makes and the rough clearing of her throat. she sees momo breaking, despite jihyo’s best efforts to not break anything, and she knows she’s messed up. 

“please stop lying to me,” momo finally whispers after what feels like ages of tense silence between them, her fingers raking through her hair and ruining the style she knew must have taken hours to perfect. she looks wrecked, absolutely devastated, and jihyo hates herself for being the cause. “we both know that’s not why you didn’t tell me. please — i need — just say it, jihyo.”

jihyo gulps against a dry throat, feels her body scream at her to run, to disappear back down to the grand hall and forget this happened. but her heart forces her to step toward momo. forces her to grasp momo’s tear soaked cheeks in her cold and shaking hands. forces her to finally confront everything. forces her to pull momo in, lips crashing together in a harried kiss. there’s nothing sweet and gentle about it. it’s bruising and desperate and everything jihyo has wanted to say for years but has been too afraid to, too afraid to break everything because momo wasn’t who her father picked out for her, wasn’t who was supposed to be a part of her plan. 

she parts from momo with a heaving chest, emotions and feelings and words clawing up her throat, desperate to get out and be known, but she swallows them down and shakes her head. it’s too much, too soon. jihyo wants to tell momo, to let her in on everything swirling in her head and heart, but it’s so much and she doesn’t know if she can. 

momo seems to get it regardless, though. because she grasps at jihyo’s forearms, lets her forehead fall against jihyo’s with a shuddering sigh and licks at her lips, mind still reeling over the fact that they were pressed against the other girls only moments before. “don’t marry him,” she whispers into the silence between them, her words careful and cautious. “i know it’s a lot to ask and i shouldn’t, but please. don’t.”

jihyo sighs and lets her eyes flutter to a close, hands shifting so her fingers can curl into momo’s brown tresses, “my family, momo — my people. they need this marriage.” it’s not a no, jihyo knows, and she curses herself for not being able to deny the older girl of her wishes. “i can’t break things." 

momo nods like she understands, her hands loosening their grip on her forearms and dropping to jihyo’s waist to pull her closer, lips brushing over the curve of her cheek in a barely there kiss. “so you’ll break me instead?”

jihyo shakes her head, fingers curling tighter, lips pressing to momo’s cheeks, jaw, nose, and then her lips once more. “no. i can’t do that to you again, i won’t. i won’t break you.” she whispers the words like promises against her skin, lips grazing across any available sliver of skin as if sewing the parts of momo she’d already broken back together again. “but my kingdom, momo. they need this.”

momo chuckles, the sound a stark contrast to their somber mood from before and winds her arms around jihyo’s waist, brushing their noses together gently, a whisper on her lips, “my family can help, we can do more than his can. it can work out.” she nudges their noses together more insistently, waits until jihyo’s eyes open to meet her own, “so please. don’t marry him.”

jihyo knows that of all the families currently visiting her home, the hirai’s are of the highest caliber, so she knows momo’s words hold truth. she knows that momo would give her entire wealth for jihyo to not marry the man downstairs and to be with her instead, can see it in her eyes and feel it in her unrelenting grip. she knows that she loves momo and not some man she met for the first-time months ago. 

she decides that if things break, momo can help fix them.

she nods. momo smiles.

* * *

 

jihyo is still eighteen when she stares out over the landscape of her new home. the snow has started to melt away and she can see the first of the spring flowers blooming in the garden below. her fingers still freeze where they rest against the cold glass of the window, but her back is warm from where momo leans against her, arms locked around her waist and face tucked away against her neck.

jihyo can hear quiet snores here and there from the older’s mouth, rolls her eyes at the fact that momo had fallen asleep standing up again, but makes no move to wake her. she knows momo is tired after spending countless weeks contesting the arguments that came with jihyo’s cancellation of the marriage and her subsequent union with momo and the hirai dynasty. momo had fought tooth and nail for her, for _them_ , and after weeks of threats of war and outrage, an agreement had finally been made. 

jihyo would be off with the hirai’s, they would provide financial help and security against attacks for jihyo’s (now flourishing) homeland, and everything else would fall into place and work out, just like momo promised.

she smiles, turns her head to press a kiss to the crown of momo’s head, smiles when she hears the girl let out a dazed hum of content, grip tightening around jihyo’s waist instinctively.

jihyo decides she loves this the most.


End file.
